


Mistaken Identities

by txmedic37



Category: Castle
Genre: Gen, Pre-Series, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 14:03:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6082113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/txmedic37/pseuds/txmedic37
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-series.  Esposito goes undercover to buy drugs in order to pick up a dealer, who's a suspect in their most recent murder case.  The dealer, however, turns out not to be who they thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistaken Identities

**Author's Note:**

> This hasn't been beta'd so apologies in advance. This is a fill for Rysposito's Secret Santa Fic Exchange.

 

“Castle” belongs to ABC and Andrew Marlowe.  Original characters are mine, no money is made, etc.   This is in response to an unfilled prompt for Rysposito’s Secret Santa fic exchange: 4) First meeting AU - What happens when an undercover cop posing as a drug dealer deals to an undercover cop posing as a drug buyer?

 

Mistaken Identities

 

Detective Kate Beckett knelt in the damp grass of the park, the trailing hem of her coat soaking up the moisture though she hardly noticed.  Her attention was fixed on the unnaturally pale face of the young man half hidden under a shrub.  He was more boy than man, his face still round from youth.  Too young to have met such an ugly fate.  Though, to be fair, Beckett reasoned that very few on this earth _did_ deserve such an end.

 

“You okay, Kate?”

 

Looking up, breaking her concentration, Beckett smiled at her friend.  ME Lanie Parish knelt across from her, making notes on her clipboard as she examined the body.  Mocha eyes met hazel and Beckett nodded.  “Yeah, Lanie.  I just hate it when they’re this young.”

 

“I hear you.”  With a sigh, Dr. Parish pointed out different areas with her pen.  “The poor kid had bruising to his torso and back.  Bruises to his legs and arms show he tried to fend off his attacker.  His jaw is broken and COD is the crushing of his trachea.  I’d say he was kicked to death.”

 

Dr. Parish handed her a school ID.  “Michael Trigiani.  Just turned eighteen three months ago.  He does show signs of heroin use, but I’ll get a tox screen once I get him back to the lab.  I’m guessing that’s what he was doing in this part of the park at two in the morning.”

 

“Is that your TOD?”

 

“I’d say between two and four, based on liver temp and lividity.”

 

“Thanks, Lanie.”  Beckett stood and scanned the area, spotting her partner about ten yards away with a couple of uniformed officers.  She waited until he finished and closed his notebook before getting his attention.  When he wandered over to join her, both turned their gazes back to the boy on the ground.  “Lanie says time of death is between two and four this morning.”

 

Detective Javier Esposito nodded and added that bit of information to his notes.  “The two officers who first responded said an early morning jogger found the body.  Well, technically, the guy’s dog found the body.  He says neither he nor his dog touched anything.  I talked to the guy and he was pretty freaked out.  Dude said he could tell from ten feet away that the kid was dead, and called 911 immediately.  Drugs?”

 

Tucking a strand of chestnut hair behind her ear, Beckett nodded.  “Looks that way.  You and I both know this is the area for it.  Plus Lanie said she saw signs of drug use.  We’ll have to wait for the toxicology report to know for sure.”

 

“There’s nothing much left to do here.  CSU will comb the area for any trace.”

 

Beckett nodded her agreement and led the way back to their car.  “I’ll contact his parents and break the news.  See if they know who he hangs out with, or if they were aware of any drug problems.  You check with his school, talk to his classmates and teachers.  Someone has to know where he got his drugs.”

 

“You think it was a drug deal gone wrong?”

 

Shrugging, Beckett unlocked the car and opened her door.  She looked across the hood at her junior partner before sliding into her seat.  “It’s as good a place to start as any.”

 

Once back in the Homicide bullpen at the 12th precinct, Esposito rolled a whiteboard out of a side office and started to write in the information on their new case.  Beckett settled in at her desk with a cup of coffee and picked up the phone.  She called the victim’s school to get Michael’s parents’ phone number then made the heartbreaking call that would shatter their world.  That phone call was the part of her job that she hated most, but she would rather do it than relegate it to her junior partner.

 

The phone call went as she expected, but Mr. and Mrs. Trigiani agreed to come to the precinct to speak to Beckett about their son.  They would do anything to help find the person who had taken their child from them.

 

                                                              ******

 

The interview with the parents had yielded a girlfriend’s name and phone number.  They had no idea their son was into drugs, but agreed to let detectives search their son’s room.  Beckett took the Trigiani house, while Esposito went to ask around Michael’s school.

 

When the two met back up at the 12th around lunchtime, they adjourned to one of the conference rooms with a large pizza and compared notes.  Scrunching up her nose at the pineapples and extra jalapenos on her partner’s half of the pie, Beckett dropped her own slice of pizza on a paper plate and wiped her fingers on a napkin.

 

“Espo, I’ll never get used to watching you eat that.”  She ignored the Hispanic detective’s frown and flipped open the file in front of her.  “I did find some drug paraphernalia in Michael’s room, but nothing else suspicious.  The girlfriend was home last night.  She shares a room with her younger sister, their home has an alarm system and it wasn’t disarmed until the father turned it off this morning.  She’s in the clear, not that I expected a teenage girl to be the killer.  That beating took a lot of force.”

 

Esposito wiped his mouth and scanned through his handwritten notes.  “Michael’s grades have been slipping since the beginning of the year, so you would think someone would’ve pegged the kid as having some sort of problem.  I talked to a couple of kids in his classes, who pointed me to his best friend.  Kid name of Joe Tartaglia.  Said he was also home last night, but I haven’t had a chance to confirm that with his parents.  Says he knew Michael was into drugs, but didn’t want to get him in trouble by telling anyone.  Joe told me he saw his friend buy drugs a couple of times and can describe the dealer to an artist.”

 

Nodding, Beckett leaned back in her chair and chewed thoughtfully.  “I think the dealer is our best suspect for now, based on the drugs and location of the murder.  If we rule him or her out then we can widen our focus.”

 

“I’ll have Tartaglia brought to the precinct after school to speak to a sketch artist.  Hopefully I’ll have the scumbag in holding by tonight.”

 

Once finished with their lunch, the two detectives updated the murder board and ran the principles’ backgrounds.  The parents and girlfriend came up clean, but Joe Tartaglia had a prior for possession of drug paraphernalia.  Esposito filed that little tidbit in the back of his mind for later.

 

When Joe came in that afternoon to work with a sketch artist, he admitted to the arrest but claimed it had belonged to Michael.  However, since it was found in his car Joe had been the one charged.  Once the sketch was finished, Esposito left the precinct to see if he could find the unknown dealer.  The detective was a little surprised that Joe had given him directions to an alley next to a convenience store, and not the park where they’d found the body.  Why would the dealer set up a meet so far out of his territory?

 

Glad he’d gone the casual route that morning, Espo decided his jeans, gray pullover and non-descript jacket would make him look like any other customer looking for a hit.  He slipped his badge from around his neck, shoved it in one of the jacket pockets and climbed from the car. 

As he approached the convenience store, he noted there were several men loitering near the alley.  It was the shortest of the group that had his attention, however.  The young man didn’t look much older than Michael as he shifted from one foot to the other, probably in an effort to stay warm in the rapidly cooling air.  He wore tattered All-Star knock-offs, worn jeans and a thin navy blue hoodie.  His brown hair hung down near his blue eyes, framing a narrow face.  The same narrow face in the sketch Espo had left in his car.  Bingo.

 

Hunching his shoulders and letting his gaze go a little shifty, Esposito went into the convenience store.  He wandered the aisles for a couple of minutes then walked back out.  He ducked around the corner into the alley, as if to get out of the wind.  The dealer shifted to put his back to the wall and eyed the detective warily.  Coughing into his fist a couple of times, Esposito shuffled closer and made it obvious that he was looking around to see if anyone was watching them.  Leaning toward his suspect, Espo cleared his throat.

 

“Hey, man.  Uh, Michael…um, Mikey…he said I could maybe get what I need from you.  You got any Dragon Rock, man?”

 

The young man sniffled, his nose pink from the chill.  “No rock.  Got some dynamite.”

 

Esposito nodded jerkily and reached into his pocket to grab a ten dollar bill.  “Can I get a dime?”

 

After eyeing him up and down a minute or two, the dealer nodded his head and led Esposito a little deeper into the shadows of the alley next to a large dumpster.  He pulled his hands from his pockets and held up a twist of wax paper about the size of a large marble.  He waved the fingers of his other hand.  Once Esposito handed over the bill, the dealer delivered the drugs.

 

“Thanks, man.”  Esposito slipped the drugs into his jacket pocket, palming his badge.  He held it up with a grim smile.  “NYPD.  You’re under arrest for the sale of an illegal-.”

 

Before the detective could finish his sentence, the punk drug dealer darted around him and ran.  With a curse, Espo slipped his badge back around his neck as he took off after the fleeing suspect.  The kid was fast, but Javier was faster.  When the dealer had to slow to avoid being run over by a car as he tried to cross an intersection, Esposito kicked it into high gear.  Just as the suspect made it to the far side, the detective made a tackle the NFL would appreciate.

 

The smaller male beneath him let out a grunt of pain as he slammed to the concrete.  Esposito took advantage of the moment and grabbed one thin wrist, locking his handcuffs around it with a satisfying click.  He grabbed the other hand and did the same.  He rolled to his feet, bent down and hauled the younger man upright.  The dealer was still sucking in air in wheezy heaving gasps, making Esposito smirk with a sense of satisfaction.

 

Patting down the dealer, Esposito came up with a butterfly knife, a wad of cash, about six more wax bundles of drugs and a battered wallet.  The wallet yielded a few worn bills, a pre-paid credit card and a driver’s license for James Collins.  A second look confirmed that the license was a fake, so who knew what the kid’s real name was.

 

Grabbing his suspect by the elbow, Esposito started the long walk back to his car.  He used the opportunity to read the dealer his rights, but his suspect finally caught his breath and interrupted the memorized speech.

 

“Yeah, yeah.  I know the spiel.  I have a right to remain silent and blah, blah, blah.”  Wincing a little and trying to jerk his arm out of the detective’s grasp, the dealer glared at his captor.  “Was that really necessary?  You didn’t have to take me down so hard.  That was police brutality, man.  I’m gonna sue.”

 

The other men loitering in the alley eyed the pair as Esposito made it to his car and maneuvered his suspect into the back seat, buckling him in.  “Shut up, Jimmy.”

 

Settling into the driver’s seat, Espo shut his door and fastened his seatbelt.  He glanced back at the dealer, who was grinning back at him.  Pulling the car away from the curb and out into traffic, the detective frowned.  “I don’t know what you’re smiling about, you little punk.  Jail will not be kind to someone like you.”

 

“Oh, you’re right about that, Detective.  Good thing I won’t be going to jail.”  Bright blue eyes flashed with amusement, making Esposito grit his teeth in annoyance.

 

“Yeah?  And why would that be?”

 

“’Cause I’m a cop?”

 

Esposito resisted the impulse to slam on his breaks and once again met those blue eyes in his rear view mirror.  “That so?”

 

“Look, I’m sorry.  I couldn’t tell you in that alley, because it would’ve blown my cover.  I was hoping to outrun you, but you’re pretty damn fast.  Kudos on that, by the way.  I outran the last two cops who tried to arrest me for dealing.”

 

A broad smile spread across the man’s face, but Esposito wasn’t born yesterday.  He wouldn’t believe the guy’s story until it was confirmed by someone in the department.  “Where are you out of, then?”

 

“Kevin Ryan.  Narco out of the 12th.”

 

“Bullshit.  I’m out of the 12th and I’ve never laid eyes on you.”

 

Shrugging as best he could with his arms handcuffed behind him, the would-be police officer smiled crookedly.  “I’m not in the precinct all that much, and we’re on the ground floor.  Not much cause to use the elevator.”

 

“Look, just exercise your right to remain silent.  We’re almost to the precinct.  Either your story will check out or it won’t.  I’m trying to drive.”

 

With another shrug, the younger man did as requested and kept his mouth shut the rest of the drive.  After parking in front of the precinct, Esposito pulled his suspect from the car and led him into the building.  As the two crossed the lobby and Espo pulled open the glass door leading down the main hallway on the ground floor, two uniformed officers slipped past them.  The older of the two officers chuckled at the pair.

 

“Played your part too well, Ryan?”

 

Grinning up at the taller officer, Esposito’s suspect shrugged.  “What can I say?  I’m good at what I do.”

The uniformed officer laughed and jerked a thumb over his shoulder.  “Captain Osorio is in his office.”

 

“Thanks, Phil.”  James Collins aka Kevin Ryan jerked his head toward the door to the Narcotics room.  “Cap will vet me for you then we can get down to why you picked me up in the first place.”

 

With a sigh, knowing by now that his lead was a bust, Esposito nevertheless led his suspect past the desks in the Narco bullpen and tapped on the closed door to the captain’s office.  At the command to enter, Javier pushed open the door and led his suspect inside.

 

The captain was a tall Hispanic officer with salt and pepper, close-cropped hair and a no-nonsense air.  Looking up and seeing the two, he immediately frowned at the handcuffed younger man.  “Your cover still good, Ryan?”

 

“Yes, sir.  I ran when he identified himself.  He took me down and marched me past the others in handcuffs, so as far as they know I got busted for dealing.  If anything, this will help my rep.”

 

“Good.”  Switching his gaze to Esposito, Captain Osorio smiled apologetically.  “It happens, Detective.  Detective Esposito, meet Officer Kevin Ryan.”

 

With poor grace, Espo unlocked the handcuffs and slipped them back onto his belt.  “Well, there goes that lead.”  He nevertheless held out his hand.  “Sorry about the take-down.”

 

Shaking his hand, Ryan smiled good-naturedly.  “No sweat.  It was a sweet tackle, though I think I’ll be feeling it tomorrow.  How ‘bout we head up to the Homicide floor and you fill me in.  Maybe I can help you after all.”

 

“Can’t hurt.”  Esposito led the way to the elevator, still irritated at the turn of events.  He ignored the undercover officer when Ryan rubbed at his wrists, no doubt working out the soreness of the handcuffs.

 

“Thanks for verifying my story before throwing me in lockup, by the way.”

 

Looking the thin officer up and down, Esposito smirked as the elevator slid to a stop.  “You’re welcome, since you probably would’ve had your ass kicked.”

 

Trailing the detective down the hallway, Ryan laughed.  “I don’t doubt that, Detective.”

 

Esposito spotted his boss over by the murder board as they rounded the corner into the bullpen.  With a grimace, he jerked his thumb over his shoulder.  “Yo Beckett, check out our suspect.”

 

As she stepped away from the white board, Beckett raised one thin eyebrow in question.  Espo pointed as he made introductions.  “Detective Kate Beckett, meet Officer Kevin Ryan from Narcotics.”

 

“Well, crap.”  With a sigh, Beckett sat on the corner of her desk and crossed her arms.  “There goes that lead.”

 

Ryan pushed his bangs out of his eyes and flicked his gaze over the information on the board.  He frowned and stepped closer, fingering the edge of one of the pictures held up by a magnetic clip.  “Maybe not, Detective Beckett.  Did this guy turn you on to me as a suspect?”

 

 

Beckett stood and uncrossed her arms, gesturing to the mug shot of Tartaglia.  “You know this guy?”

 

“Yeah.”  Ryan shoved his hand into his pockets and blew out a breath.  “Okay, so I’m currently trying to work my way up the food chain to get the whereabouts of a new drug lab.  They’re putting out some really bad stuff that’s killing a lot of addicts.  Your boy Tartaglia?  Showed up about a month ago and started dealing for the same organization.”

 

Pointing at the photo of their victim, Ryan continued.  “Trigiani was his buddy and came in about a week ago.  Both kids were supposed to be dealing at the school.  We hadn’t yet been able to find someone we could get into the school undercover, so I don’t know what went down.”

 

Looking the younger man up and down once more, Esposito smirked.  “Why didn’t they put you in?  You certainly look young enough.”

 

With a good-natured smile, Ryan glanced down at his ragged clothing.  “Nah, I did my time as the whole 21 Jump Street thing.  Once was enough. Besides, Jimmy Collins already has a job and that’s taking down the source.”

 

Beckett chewed on her lower lip as she slotted in this new information, trying to see how it all fit.  Ryan looked at her profile a moment then also turned his gaze to the white board.  “You want my guess?”

 

“Sure.  At this point, I think we’ll take all comers.”

 

“Something went down between your two Ts.  Maybe Trigiani got cold feet and Tartaglia didn’t want to lose face with his source.  Maybe those cold feet came from finding out their product was deadly in more ways than one.”  With a shrug, Ryan’s blue eyes glanced from Beckett to Esposito.  “Maybe growing a conscience is what got young Michael killed.”

 

Beckett shared a look with her partner, Esposito nodding silently in agreement with the theory.  She stepped away from the board, smiling broadly at the young officer.  She reached out to shake hands with Ryan and thanked him for his help.  “Tell you what Officer Ryan.  You ever make Detective, come visit us.”

 

“I will.”  Clasping her smaller hand in his, Ryan returned her handshake with a wry grin.  “Don’t hold your breath, though.”

 

Walking with Ryan as the Narco cop made his way back to the elevator, Esposito couldn’t help thinking that it wouldn’t take the young officer as long to make detective as he seemed to think it would.  The theory he’d given them was a sound one.  Even if it didn’t pan out that way, they at least had a viable suspect.  When the elevator dinged to announce the car’s arrival, Espo also shook the officer’s hand.

 

“Be careful out there on the streets, Ryan.”

 

The younger man stepped into the elevator, turned and smiled brightly.  “I’ll do my best, Detective.  Hopefully the next cop doesn’t run as fast as you do.”

 

The doors slid shut and Esposito turned to make his way back to his desk.  With those incredible blue eyes and that smile…the detective was glad Ryan was down in Narcotics.  If the younger man ever came up to Homicide, Espo was sure he’d never get any work done.  Not with something that pretty to look at all day.  Though, he supposed he could make a trip down to Narco once their case was solved.  Just to let Ryan know how it turned out.  You know, professional courtesy.  It had nothing whatsoever to do with those eyes.  Not a thing.

 

END

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
